


the bat and the birds

by AlmondRose



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Bruce is a good dad, Fluff, Gen, Mandalorian Culture, Star Wars Fusion, alfred is so exasperated all the time, bruce drinks loving kids juice, bruce talks a big game about hating jedi but he's like in love with all the jedi in this fic, well at least an attempt at it, well it's 6 + 1 things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondRose/pseuds/AlmondRose
Summary: six times the bat finds a child, and one time a child is handed to hima batman/star wars au
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Duke Thomas & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 104
Kudos: 798





	the bat and the birds

**Author's Note:**

> -full disclosure, i've been really into star trek lately so there might be some star trek words thrown in here but i really tried my best  
> -um. i read the wookieepedia page about mandalorians but uhh who knows how accurate that is. basically this is just good fun  
> -based off a tumblr post ( https://sqoiler.tumblr.com/post/190336495161/sqoiler-sqoiler-sqoiler-sqoiler ) that i made...it got 18k notes so i hope some of those people see this i guess  
> -if you haven't read the post bascially the concept is that bruce is a mandalorian and he keeps picking up foundlings  
> -um. since this is star wars i changed up some names a little bit. so for example we have here dic, j, timenothy (timen for short), stephanee, cass-andra, & then everyone else is the same  
> -duke's section is super short and i'm really really sorry about that but i didn't know how to make it longer/i was running out of steam t  
> -UM THIS TAKES PLACE (checks notes) BEFORE THE FALL OF THE JEDI SO UM. LET'S SAY SOMETIME BEFORE THE PREQUELS  
> -idk anything about mandalorian colors meaning things and in this they just picked the colors just cause

He has answered many a strange call before, jobs from droids and two-headed aliens and Hutts and Jawas and almost anything in between, but he has to admit, as he looks down at his newest client, that this might be the strangest. 

The client is a boy, human, about ten or eleven standard years old. He has dark hair falling over his eyes. He’s dressed in the garb of the local nomads of this planet, Ha’lee, and his hands shake. 

The boy looks up at the Mandalorian, and the fear that this particular Mandalorian is used to when small children look up at him, at his shiny black armor, is absent, or at least well-hidden. 

“I need you to help me find the ones who destroyed my clan,” the boy says, his voice sure. Under his helmet, the Mandalorian raises an eyebrow, though he knows the boy cannot see it. 

“Do you have money?” the Mandalorian asks. The boy nods and empties his pockets. The money is unfamiliar to him, and he draws it across the table towards him. He does not know the conversion rate from Ha’lee money to standard credits, but he still knows this is not enough. 

He looks at the boy, who must be desperate, and must be all alone, if he had nobody to advise him against calling a Mandalorian. 

“Explain what happened,” the Mandalorian says. “And what you want me to do.”

“My clan was destroyed by people in the night,” the boy says. “My mother...she hid me, kept me safe, but she died. I’m the only one who survived. And I want to know who destroyed my clan and why.”

The Mandalorian does not know what it is--the fact that this boy lost his clan, and clans are so important to Mandalorians, the fact that this boy has nothing, and neither does the Mandalorian, or maybe the fact that this boy looks a lot like what the Mandalorian saw in the mirror, a long time ago. It doesn’t really matter _why,_ but the Mandalorian looks at the too-little pile of money, and stands, pushes the money back to the boy. 

“I will help you,” he says. “For free. Come, take me to the place of destruction.”

The boy’s eyes are wide. 

“Thank you, Mr. Mandalorian!” he says, scrambling to his feet and walking beside the Mandalorian as they leave the cantina. The Mandalorian notes that this boy’s head only goes to his elbow, and his heart clenches. “Oh, they say Mandalorians are scary, but you aren’t that bad at all, are you?”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” the Mandalorian grunts. “And I’m way scarier than you think I am.”

“Okay, of course, sir!” the boy says. “My name is Dic, by the way, of the clan Grayson.”

“Don’t care,” the Mandalorian says, but he kind of does. Just a little, of course.

It takes weeks to track down the members of the clan Zucco who destroyed the clan Grayson. In those weeks, Dic grows on the Mandalorian more than he ever thought possible. When it’s all over, and the Mandalorian knows he has to get back to work, take another job, he looks at the young boy, still standing beside him, and his heart aches. 

“What will you do now?” the Mandalorian asks. They’re outside the hanger where the Mandalorian has stored his ship, and Dic looks around before shrugging. 

“I guess I’ll take some odd jobs,” he says. “Earn a living. Maybe...find another clan to take me in.”

Under his helmet, the Mandalorian closes his eyes. He thinks of the fussy old Mandalorian who raised him, the one who lent his family name to their clan of two. He speaks before he can think too much about what he’s about to say. 

“Did you know Mandalorians have clans, too?” he says. Dic’s eyes widen. 

“They do?” he says. The Mandalorian nods. 

“They do,” he says. “They’re usually made up of a family, like a married couple or close friends or...a parent and foundling.”

“Foundling?” Dic repeats. The Mandalorian has never felt this awkward in his life. 

“Yes,” he says. “It’s common practice in my culture to adopt and raise children who are orphaned, and need a new clan.”

Dic’s blue eyes are shining with hope. 

“Why are you telling me this?” he breathes. 

The Mandalorian exhales. 

“Do you want to come with me?” he asks, and then he’s nearly knocked over by the force of Dic’s hug. 

“Yes!” the boy shouts, and oh, the Mandalorian has not been hugged for a very, very long time, but he manages to wrap his arms around the boy’s shoulders and squeeze, gently. 

\-----

After they return to Concord Dawn, and Dic is formally inducted into clan Pennyworth, the Mandalorian heads back out, his foundling--new son--excitedly bouncing around the ship. Alfred is on a job of his own, or the Mandalorian knows he would’ve come with them. 

“You know,” Dic says, on their third day, twirling in the copilot’s chair as the Mandalorian drives. “Clan Grayson was really big, but Clan Pennyworth being small is kind of nice.”

“I’m glad you think so,” the Mandalorian says. 

“Also,” Dic says. “You and I are in the same clan now, and I still don’t know your name.”

“Ah,” the Mandalorian says, and a voice in his head yells at him not to, and his stomach lurches, but he raises his hands and takes off his helmet, puts it on the console beside him. You aren’t supposed to take it off, but you can for clanmates. You can let your family see you. 

He runs his fingers through his hair, sure it’s a mess, and turns to face the boy next to him. His eyes are wide open and shocked. 

“My name is Bruce,” the Mandalorian says, and for the first time, he meets Dic’s eyes with his own.

\----

For a while, Alfred and Bruce trade off on watching Dic and taking jobs, and then once Dic starts to build up his own armor Bruce lets Dic go with him, occasionally. 

And once years have passed, and Dic is older, if not quite wiser, Bruce lets Dic take his own safer, easier jobs, if they’re on the same planet as Bruce’s harder, more dangerous jobs. 

They’re on Coruscant, and Dic is helping track down a missing person. Bruce finishes bringing in a murderer and leaves the bar, heading back to his ship. 

Someone joins him, and Bruce does _not_ turn his head to look, knowing who’s beside him without looking. 

“You could’ve come said hi,” Kal-El says. 

“I’ve been busy,” Bruce grunts. 

“Of course,” Kal says charitably. “How was your job?”

“Don’t need to discuss that with you, Jedi scum,” Bruce says, and Kal laughs. 

“Right,” he says. “How’s Dic?”

“Fine,” Bruce says, tense, and as always afraid that Kal will look into Bruce’s mind and see the times Dic has levitated objects, the times his shot with a blaster was _too_ perfect, the times when he’s convinced people to tell him things they shouldn’t be telling anyone. _He’s too old,_ Bruce thinks. _Too old for the Jedi to steal him._

“That’s good,” Kal says. 

Bruce gives a noncommittal hum in response, and Kal claps a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll be going, then,” he says, and Bruce says, “Good.”

The trouble is that he generally _likes_ Kal, actually. Under torture, he might even admit that Kal is his favorite Jedi, although Kal’s the only Jedi Bruce has ever met that is marginably tolerable. 

Kal leaves, and Bruce wonders if they could be real friends if things were different. Sadly, things are not different, so Bruce turns ‘round the corner and goes into the hanger where his ship is parked and stops. 

The ship’s doors are open, and Bruce _certainly_ didn’t leave them that way. He stalks up and into his ship, a hand on his blaster. 

There’s a rattling sound and for a second Bruce wonders if it’s Dic, but then he turns the corner and nearly bumps into a young boy with curly hair, arms full of what Bruce recognizes as parts of his ship. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“Are you kriffing _blind?”_ the boy responds. “What does it look like I’m doing? If you’ll excuse me.”

Bruce has to admit, he admires the guts of this kid. However, he can’t let him get away with stripping his ship. He reaches out a hand and grabs the kid by the back of his tunic, lifting him up. The boy drops the parts he’s holding and wiggles, trying to get free. 

“Hey!” he says. “Let me down!”

“No,” Bruce says, and tilts his head. “Only once have I met a child unafraid of a Mandalorian before, and that was my son. Are _you_ blind?”

“No,” the boy says. “No, I’m just stupid. Please let me down? Don’t eat me?”

“I’m not going to eat you,” Bruce says, amused. “What do you need the parts for?”

“Credits?” the boy says, in a tone that implies Bruce is stupid for not knowing so. “What else would I need parts for?”

“I see,” Bruce says. He does not lower his arm, but looks at the pile of parts the boy had stolen. Bruce can’t actually let him take any of it, because these parts are both expensive and vital, but perhaps…

He walks, still carrying the boy, and goes to the main room. He pulls a box from his vault and flips it open. 

“Are those kriffing kyber crystals?” the kid cries, and Bruce hums in agreement. He takes a pair of them out and hands them to the kid, who looks at them like if he breathes on them too hard, they’ll shatter. 

“Jedi,” Bruce says. “Do not like non-Jedi having these. They would pay a hefty sum for a few of these.”

The boy looks at him with wide eyes, and Bruce takes in the dirt of the city on this boy, the mismatched clothes, and he lowers the kid back to the ground, releasing his shirt. 

The boy turns and runs without looking back, and Bruce feels a weird pang in his chest. 

From outside the ship, there’s a yell, and Bruce goes back to the door to see what it is. Dic, blue armor shining, holding up the little thief, nearly exactly how Bruce’d been holding him. 

“Is this yours?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Nobody ever said Mandalorians travel in packs!” the boy cries, holding the kyber crystals close to his chest and kicking his legs aggressively. 

“I like him,” Dic adds, and Bruce reconsiders the boy, and his son. 

“Bring him in,” he decides. 

Dic enters the ship, dragging the boy behind him, and when they’re both on board, Bruce closes the ship’s doors, and although he does not like to see orphans, wonders if this boy is one, and hates himself a little for hoping he is. 

\-----

Six months later, Bruce wakes up to the sound of Dic and J fighting, and when he tunes in on the words they seem to be arguing over who gets the latest block of beskar, J arguing that he has less armor and needs it more, and Dic arguing that he did all the work on the mission. 

Bruce turns over in his bed, and smiles. 

\-----

“Son,” Alfred says. He and Bruce are standing next to each other, Alfred cleaning his knives, and Bruce watching the kid who’s been following him for the last week and a half subtly try to watch them in return. 

The kid doesn’t know he knows, Bruce thinks, because he’s outside of hearing range and the fun thing about Mandalorians is that their lips can’t be read. 

“Stop watching the boy and let it go,” Alfred advises. “We need to get off this planet, anyway, no more jobs to be had here.”

“Why is he following me?” Bruce asks. “He’s just a lad.”

“You have a pair of lads already,” Alfred says. “And I love those lads, but you don’t need another one.”

“I’m not--I don’t know this child,” Bruce says. “I am not planning on taking this kid anywhere. I just want him to leave us alone--but what if he needs help?”

“In my experience,” Alfred says. “If a child needs something from a Mandalorian, they say so.”

Bruce turns to look at him. Alfred’s silver helmet is, of course, on, so Bruce cannot technically read his expression, but Bruce can still see the exasperation on his face. 

“Maybe I’ll ask the boys to look into it,” Bruce concedes. 

“There you go,” Alfred says, and he looks back down at his knife. 

\----

Bruce and Alfred leave Dic and J on-planet and take a pair of bounties on the nearest moon. When they come back, Bruce sends a message to Dic to meet them at the local Guild location, and upon finding it has to stop to comprehend what he’s looking at. 

Dic and J are sitting there, of course, but the skinny boy who’d been following Bruce around is wedged between them, looking embarrassed. Standing next to the trio of boys is a Jedi Bruce knows all too well, and seeing him in proximity to Dic is frightening. 

“Kal,” Bruce growls, deciding that was more important. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hello Bat,” Kal says cheerfully. “I was just passing through and spotted your boys here and thought I’d give them some adult supervision.”

“Kriffing stupid, if you ask me,” Dic mutters. 

“Just ‘cause Jedi pada- _losers_ can’t be left alone for four seconds doesn’t mean Mandalorians can’t be,” J says. 

Bruce holds out a hand to silence them, and another kid comes up to them. He’s in Jedi robes, and has the signature little braid down his shoulder and tiny ponytail in the back of his head. Also, his face looks very similar to Kal’s. He has a tray of drinks, and he passes one to the boy who’d been following Bruce around.

“Here,” he says, and then passes one of his other drinks to Kal and keeps the last one. He sips it and then surveys the Mandalorians all around him. “Do Mandos even drink real water?”

“Just the blood of Jedi,” J snarls, and Dic puts a hand on his brother’s helmet. 

“Calm down,” he says. 

“Who’s this?” Bruce asks. 

“Oh, yeah, this is Kon, my padawan,” Kal says. “Kon, this is the Bat. He’s in charge of the Bird and the red one.”

“I see,” Kon says. 

J looks like he’s about to riot and Bruce says, “Boys, come on.”

Dic drags the stalker boy by the back of his shirt and J follows, shooting looks back at the pair of Jedi. The stalker boy turns back to stare at Kon, and Bruce nearly groans.

“Who’s the kid?” he asks instead. 

“This little shit is Timenothy,” J says. “He thinks Mandalorians are _cool.”_

“He’s a runaway,” Dic explains.

“I can talk for myself,” Timenothy says. 

“Why were you following me?” Bruce asks. 

“I was trying to figure out how to become a Mandalorian, sir,” Timenothy says. They reach the hangar where Alfred is waiting with Bruce’s ship. 

“And did you ever figure it out?” Bruce asks. Timenothy shakes his head.

“The red one and the Bird wouldn’t tell me,” he says. “But it’s weird, cause I thought you guys were loners, but you three travel in a group.”

“Four,” Bruce corrects.

“Huh?”

“There’s four of us, Timen,” Dic says. 

“Oh,” Timen says. “That’s weird. Isn’t that weird?”

“Not if you know anything about Mandalorians,” J says. 

“Why do you want to be a Mandalorian?” Bruce asks, stopping walking to turn and face the trio of boys. For a moment, he allows himself to imagine another son, and wonders if he’s being greedy.

“He’s a foundling,” Dic says, shaking Timen’s arm. “Probably.”

“I mean, we found him,” J says. “And he’s all alone.”

“An orphan,” Dic says. 

“Abandoned,” J says.

“You don’t have to rub it in,” Timen says, sagging, and Bruce feels a fierce rush of love for his sons, who know him so well, and have given their permission as explicitly as if they’d said “yes” out loud. 

“Interesting,” Bruce says, and from the ship behind him, Alfred groans.

\-----

In the common area on their ship, Timen lines up their helmets, Alfred’s silver than Bruce’s black then Dic’s blue-grey then J’s red and then his own greenish gray. Bruce likes wearing his helmet, likes how safe he feels with it on. But this tangible reminder that Clan Pennyworth is expanding makes him feel sort of _fuzzy_ in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

\------

“We have a call from some lady,” Timen says. “Private channel.”

‘Some lady’ could be a lot of people. Bruce gets up from the pilot’s seat and Dic slides into it from the co-pilot’s chair. Timen takes the co-pilot’s seat reluctantly, and Bruce goes back to answer the call, taking his helmet to put it back on on the way.

The face that forms in front of him is familiar and Bruce is relieved; he’d been afraid it was Cat or Talia. 

“Hey, Bat,” Barbara says. 

“Barbara,” Bruce says. 

“Chatty as usual. Heard you picked up another foundling.”

“Yes,” Bruce said. 

“Anyway,” Barbara said, her eyes rolling. “Dad has a job for you.”

Bruce hasn’t been to Coruscant since he picked up J, but for whatever reason whenever James Gordon needs him, he goes, and so he changes their route.

On Coruscant, Timen and Alfred take a missing person job, and Dic takes a job tracking down a would-be assassin, and J takes one tracking down a thief. 

Bruce meets Barbara and James at their house. 

“I need you to find someone,” James explains. “We’ve seen her around but haven’t been able to catch her.”

“She’s young,” Barbara continues. “A teenager. She’s fast and smart.”

“And, as far as we can tell, all alone,” James says. “We just want to help her.”

“The usual rate?” Bruce says. James and Barbara nod, and Bruce goes on his way. 

\----

She’s J’s age, Bruce thinks, and she’s very hard to track down. He sees her, a time or two, but it takes longer to catch her. 

\-----

When he does, it’s raining, and he’s cornered her. She’s weak with hunger, Bruce can tell. She drops into a fighting pose and looks him over. Purposefully, he makes his body language open, inviting. He doesn’t know what language she speaks and if he’ll also speak it. 

“I’m here to help,” he says. Her face is hard and her eyes dart all over him, before she abruptly sags and falls to the floor. Bruce rushes to her side and feels her pulse, pulls a protein portion from his belt. 

“Here,” he says, and she takes it without hesitation, eating ravenously. Bruce is not strong with the force and has barely a midichlorian in his body, but even he can sense it, all around her, pulsing out of her. It’s so much, and Bruce wonders how the Jedi have not found her yet. 

He takes her back to James and Barbara, promising her that he’s here to help. She says nothing, but Bruce doesn’t mind. Somehow, he thinks he can understand her pretty well anyway.

Dic has finished with his job and is waiting outside with Barbara when Bruce and the girl come walking up, Bruce helping her stand. Dic shakes his head when they approach. 

“Another one, B?” he says, and Bruce says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and pushes past them, taking the girl inside. 

“Sure you don’t!” Dic calls from behind him, and from under his helmet Bruce rolls his eyes.

\-----

Her name is Cass-Andra. She was raised by her father, a Sith lord who had no business having children. She barely knows how to use the force, and she’s all alone in the world, having turned her back on her father and knowing nothing about her mother. 

\-----

“Shut up,” Bruce grunts when he hands Cass a slab of beskar. She grins at him and clutches it to her chest and from behind her, Dic elbows J who elbows Timen. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Timen says, but their helmets are off and Bruce can see all three of his sons’ knowing grins. 

\-----

Bruce takes an anonymous job tracking down a spice dealer. It’s his job but he has Timen and Cass with him on the ship, Alfred and Dic and J doing jobs out of Alfred’s ship. Dic is saving up for a ship of his own, Bruce thinks. 

The spice dealer is one Bruce has never heard of, but he works with some of the bigger names. By all accounts, he’s been dealing for many a year and hasn’t been caught, which must mean he’s good. However, Bruce has a suspiciously easy time chasing him from planet to planet. 

Bruce is sure the man is going to Tatooine next, and the informant at the last space station had mentioned which hangar the dealer preferred. Bruce gets there first and stores his ship in the same hangar, waiting for the dealer to arrive. 

“Go look for jobs,” he tells the kids. 

“Fine,” Timen says. 

“It’s hot here,” Cass says, and Bruce can’t argue with that. The pair of them leave, and Mos Eisley is notorious enough that Bruce is sure that the pair of them will have no trouble finding something to do. 

He lurks, and the _Master_ lands. The gangplank lowers and the dealer emerges, his blond hair tied into a knot in the back of his head and dressed in the drab browns typical of Tatooine. 

“Mister Brown?” Bruce asks when the man passes him, and he turns, eyes widening when he sees the Mandalorian leaning on the wall beside him. 

“What’s it to you?” he asks. 

“You have quite a bounty on your head,” Bruce says. 

“From who? Tell me how much it was and I’ll double it,” Brown says, backing away in panic. Bruce gets off the wall and walks towards him, looming purposefully. He knows that his dark armor and the pointed pieces on his helmet are intimidating. He is much larger than this weedy little spice dealer and he does not expect much of a fight. 

“I’m not going to let you go, Brown,” Bruce says, and the man cries, “Who would put a bounty on me? I don’t understand!”

He thinks he is going to die, which is a fair assessment with most Mandalorians. However, Bruce is not most Mandalorians, and he’s preparing to wind back his fist and punch the man, when a blonde blur materializes next to them. 

“Go back to the ship, Stephanee,” Brown says. 

“No thank you,” the girl says, crossing her arms. She’s wearing a sleek purple jacket and sand boots, her blonde hair tied in an elaborate braid. She’s smaller than Bruce’s kids, but he thinks she might be Timen’s age. 

“This doesn’t concern you, _sweetie,”_ Brown says, still backing away, his eyes darting to the ship as if calculating if he can make a run for it. 

“Sure it does, asshole,” Stephanee says, and then she winds her own fist up and punches him in the face, so hard that he’s knocked to the ground. Bruce quickly ties him up, then knocks him unconscious. He stands up to look at the girl before him. She kneels down and fishes something out of Brown’s pocket, then she stands up and looks down at the man. 

“If he didn’t want a kriffing bounty, maybe he shouldn’t have made me do his dirty work,” she says, and then she hands the item from her hand to Bruce. 

It’s the bounty. 

“You sent out the bounty on him? Your...father?”

“I sure did,” she says, tossing her head. “ _And_ I basically gift-wrapped him. You’re welcome.” She turns and heads out towards the exit of the hanger. 

Bruce pauses to wonder how a teenager managed to orchestrate a trail of clues to lead Bruce to capture her father and then used said father’s own fortune to pay for his removal, and then he turns and goes after the girl. 

“Where’s your mother?” he asks. 

“She’s dead, and that’s none of your business,” Stephanee says. 

“What will you do now?”

“Whatever I want,” she says, spreading her arms, and then she turns back to look at him. “I’m not gonna cause trouble, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not,” he says. She raises an eyebrow, and then turns back to Mos Eisley and sighs. 

“Yeah, well, now I’m free,” Stephanee says, sounding overwhelmed by this information. “Say, what are _you_ gonna do next?”

“A Mandalorian’s life is simple,” Bruce says. “I will probably go to my next job.”

“Huh,” Stephanee says. 

“B!” Timen says, having appeared behind Stephanee. She whirls around and hits him with the butt end of the blaster from her belt, driving it into his stomach and elbowing him under the helmet at the same time. As Timen’s armor isn’t complete yet, it’s a good hit. Timen gasps and stumbles back a couple steps. “What the kriff?”

“Oops,” Stephanee says, and then she gasps. “Hey, a tiny Mandalorian! Do you know him, Bat?”

“Yes,” Bruce says, and then to Timen, “What do you want?”

“I was just gonna tell you that me and my sister secured a job,” Timen wheezes. “I didn’t know I’d be attacked by crazy people.”

“Hey!” Stephanee says. 

“Okay,” Bruce says. Timen presumably shoots Stephanee a dirty look, and then runs off. 

“Who was that?” Stephanee says. 

“My son,” Bruce says. 

“Woah, Mandalorains have kids?” 

“I have four,” Bruce says. 

“Neat,” Stephanee says. For a moment, they stand there in silence, then Stephanee turns to him with an appraising look. “What are you going to do until they get back?”

“Stick around,” Bruce says, surveying Mos Eisley.

“Well,” Stephanee says. “Maybe I’ll just hang out with you until you have to leave, then.”

“Hm,” Bruce says, and he thinks he can handle that. 

\-----

Timen and Cass return four days later, and find Bruce and Steph in a cantina. 

“Oh,” Timen says when they approach the booth. “ _You’re_ still here.”

“And _you_ should get better armor,” Steph shoots back.

“I like your hair,” Cass tells her, and Steph smiles. 

“I like your helmet!” she says. 

“We’re ready to go,” Timen says. Bruce stands and gets out of the booth. Steph follows suit.

“Well,” Bruce says, trying to think of a way to ask if she wants to come with him. 

“I’m coming too,” Steph says fiercely. 

“You are?” Bruce and Timen ask together. 

“Yeah,” she says. “I want off this shithole _and_ I can pay you.” Yesterday, Bruce and Steph sold the _Master_ together, and now she has a lot of money. Bruce thinks she can probably buy a fair bit of beskar with that kind of cash. 

“He won’t take your money,” Cass says. 

“Oh, yeah?” Steph says, and Bruce sighs and begins to walk away, hearing the kids follow. 

“Yeah,” Cass says. “He’s very kind.”

“Mandalorians take in foundlings, so if you’re all alone he’ll probably adopt you,” Timen says grudgingly. 

“Really?” Steph says, and then she runs up to Bruce’s side. “Have you been planning on adopting me for the last three days?”

“Only if you want to,” Bruce promises, and she lights up. 

\-----

“How was Tattoine?” Dic asks when they meet back up at their house on Concord Dawn. 

“Adopt any new kids?” J asks, clearly joking. Bruce exchanges an uncomfortable look with Cass, who grins. 

“ _No_ ,” Dic says. 

“Are you for real?” J asks, and then Timen comes in, Stephanee in tow. 

“Helmet’s been ordered,” Timen says. “They’ll bring it by later.”

“It’s gonna be purple!” Stephanee cheers, and Dic and J level Bruce with matching unimpressed looks. 

“Surprise?” he says weakly, and Stephanee stops in her tracks, looking between the helmetless Cass and Bruce, with Dic and J beyond them. From somewhere in the rooms beyond, Bruce hears Alfred tutting. 

“Oh,” she says. “So you _do_ have faces. Um.”

“She put out a bounty on her spice-dealer father and paid with his own money,” Bruce says, as if that explains everything, and Dic rolls his eyes before going over to Steph and wrapping an arm around her. 

“This happens _every time,”_ he says. 

“Okay,” Steph says, her voice muffled. “Um. Hi. Who are you?”

\-----

The kid has his own helmet.

It’s not beskar, Bruce can tell, but it is done in the style of the Mandalorians. 

“The rest of my clan died,” the kid explains. He and Bruce are on a rooftop in Coruscant. He clears his throat. “I mean. My parents died, and then me and my friends made a clan. And then _they_ died.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce says. “The Way of the Mandalorian is difficult.”

“Yeah,” the kid says. “I think we were hoping someone would come save us. Or maybe we were hoping that being Mandalorians would make us save ourselves.” 

“It’s admirable,” Bruce says. 

“Thanks,” the kid says. He sighs. “Anyway, I’ve kind of been doing my own thing. Clan of one. People don’t know I don’t have a ship, and they think I’m legit.” 

“It’s not about the beskar,” Bruce says. “If you’re following the Way then you’re Mandalorian enough.”

“Yeah, but I’m from here,” the kid explains. 

“My son is from here,” Bruce says. “He’s still a Mandalorian.”

“Huh,” the kid says, and then he says, “Well, Mandalorians don’t have the force. And I’m too old to be a Jedi.”

Bruce takes a deep breath. He already knows how this conversation will end, and he wonders if perhaps this time Alfred and Dic and J and Timen will just accept it instead of throwing a fit. 

“I have four sons and two daughters,” Bruce says. “All of them are Mandalorians. Two of them can use the force.”

“Really?” the kid asks. 

“Clans are formed by choice,” Bruce says. “Anyone who follows the Way can be a Mandalorian.”

“I don’t want to kill people,” the boy counters. 

“I have never killed,” Bruce says honestly. Alfred has killed, Bruce knows this. When J is no longer a child, Bruce thinks he may choose to kill. But Bruce has never killed. 

“Oh,” the boy says. “Maybe Mandalorians are different than I thought.”

“Do you want to learn?” Bruce says. He stands up and offers the boy his hand. 

The boy takes it. 

They are alone on the roof, and high enough up that nobody should be looking. 

Bruce takes off his helmet. 

“My name is Bruce,” he says. The boy swallows, then takes off his own helmet. He’s young, most likely younger than Timen and Steph. 

“My name is Duke,” he says. 

“Well, Duke,” Bruce says. “Do you want to come with me?”

\-----

Before Bruce finds Duke, he gets a call. 

He goes to meet Talia because she sounds desperate and because he hasn’t heard from her in years. 

He leaves his little gaggle of kids on the ship, touching his helmet to each of theirs before he goes. 

This planet is windy and rainy, and Bruce makes his way across the hangar to meet Talia. She’s wearing an oddly lumpy coat and all he can really see of her is her face and hair. 

“You wanted to see me?” he asks. 

“I’ve been in hiding,” Talia says. “From everyone, and I must go back to the Order.”

“Okay,” Bruce says. “And?”

“And Jedi cannot have attachments,” Talia says. “As you pointed out to me. I could’ve brought him to the Order, but he doesn’t have many midichlorians.”

“What are you talking about?” Bruce asks, and Talia shifts, her long coat splitting to reveal the child in her arms. 

He’s small, young. Not quite an infant. It’s been...it’s been five years, Bruce thinks. The boy is curled against her chest, and Bruce reaches for him. 

Talia lets him take him, and Bruce holds him close. The boy’s hair is more black than brown, and he’s asleep. Instinctively, he curls close to Bruce’s armored chest, and Bruce’s heart clenches. 

“I know you already have children,” Talia says. Her voice breaks. “I can give him to the Order, but I thought you would want him.”

“I do,” Bruce says. “Of course. Talia…”

“If I can visit, I will.”

“Okay,” Bruce says. “You are welcome, anytime.”

Kal, who is sort of Bruce’s friend, does not know his real name. Talia does, and has seen his face, and Bruce loves her. 

Talia smiles brokenly. 

“His name is Damian,” she says. “Take care of him.” And she reaches up her hand and pulls Bruce’s head down to touch first her lips to his helmet, and then their foreheads together. Bruce closes his eyes, and then she breaks away, goes back to her ship. Bruce watches her go. When her ship is gone, he turns back to the _Wayne._

He goes inside. 

“He’s mine,” he explains to the kids who gather around him, their helmets off for a better look at Damian. Alfred starts the ship and takes off. 

“He’s so small,” J says. 

“He’s cute,” Dic says. 

“Baby brother,” Cass says. 

“I’m picturing an itty-bitty helmet,” Steph says, squinting. “For his itty-bitty head.”

“He doesn’t even know who you are,” Timen says. “He’s gonna wake up and think you kidnapped him.”

“It’ll be fine,” Bruce says, and Alfred’s voice calls, “Hold on, I’m making the leap to hyperspeed.”

There’s nothing to hold on to except for each other, and they do. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> perhaps the timeline was unclear but uh. let's say that, loosely, dic was around 9 when bruce picked him up, and then when dic was 14 or so he picked up j, who was 12ish. timen came at age 13 when j was 14 and dic was 16. cass & j are of similar age so when she joined the family she was about 15 and j was also 15, making dic 16 and timen 14. steph came a few months later when she's also 14. bruce then picks up damian who is 4 years old. then he gets duke, who is 14 while steph & timen are 15, cass & j are 16, & dic is 18. roughly. 
> 
> edit: at the top i said that canonical mandalorian color meanings were ignored but i have since learned that:  
> -black = justice  
> -red = honoring a parent  
> -blue = reliability  
> -green = duty  
> in canon, & then in fanon purple = luck. so, um, although i didn't pick anyones colors with anything in mind, the colors seem to work out well for each character anyway. yay me!
> 
> thanks for reading! comments/kudos always appreciated!
> 
> edit: someone wrote another fanfiction based on this concept! it's linked below & it's more based on the Mandalorian show than this fic is!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [This Is the Way](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23220526) by [FictionLover007](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionLover007/pseuds/FictionLover007)




End file.
